Pieces To Find
by wild-sunshine
Summary: Leonardo never felt lost, until he met Ezio. Slash Ezio/Leonardo. Very fluffy oneshot.


Hello everyone!  
I'm procrastinating on stories. And I'm sorry. It's been an awful couple of weeks of essays and a failed midterm and expected LDR woes of being far away and a seriously unfairly graded creative writing class and snow! There was snow! That part was cool. Also, I lost my phone for the first time ever. Except someone found it! This is good phone karma. I found a guy's blackberry in the same building a month previously and got it back to him – I'm convinced that this is why my phone was returned to me. So that was happy!

(other story update: Reflections Without Mirrors will hopefully be updated sometime! All There Is To Know- I'll have to get restarted on that soon. Other categories, check back in later, my loves! But I definitely have not abandoned you, I promise!)

I would like to say that I've finally gotten a bit more applicable personal experience for my stories. I feel sort of awesome knowing that I'm actually a little bit following the ruley things they sometimes tell us in creative writing class.

Took some liberties with their initial relationship because that's what I do.

Pure fluff.

Enjoy!

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Leonardo has been an artist all his life. He can remember the first time he painted a picture – actually painted one, put thought and heart into it, the first time he crafted something on his own. He was nine years old, and it was a painting of a tree with a boy standing next to it. At first glance, it was typical of a child, but remembering it now, other children wouldn't have remembered the shadows, thought about the pattern of bark on the tree, wouldn't have changed shades of green across the leaves. He can vaguely remember the pride he'd felt, the painstaking method of choosing the right piece of paper, choosing again. It was a long time ago, and every time he paints again, he feels even farther away from the nine-year-old version of himself, a boy who was putting brush to paper for the first significant time, knowing even then that this was something he would do forever.

Leonardo has been an artist all his life, and that was the hardest part about finding himself in something so early on. He didn't recognize the thrill, because it became the element he lives in, while everyone else stumbles onto this thing he's been wrapped up in all his life, this _knowing_. Other people remember a distinct moment, the space between _nothing _and the sudden _everything, _the everything that makes them feel like this is what they've been leading up to and this is what will hold them, floating, above the world. But for Leonardo, who has never known what it is, to not know what he's meant for, it was something he missed. Instead of finding himself later, he grew up talented. And he knows, painfully well, that it's difficult to be talented. To have people expect that everything he creates will be just that- a creation, something new and beautiful and breathtaking. People expect something that's a piece of his soul, even though he worries one day he'll have only one piece left and then nothing at all.

Leonardo has felt lost all his life, lost because he's always been found. Being found doesn't matter when he's never been lost.

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When they first met, Leonardo didn't notice anything particular about how Ezio acted; he was bright and interested and ensured that he introduced himself to Leonardo, but aside from their interestingly engaging conversation, Leonardo hadn't thought anything of it. It wasn't until the next day that he realized he'd overlooked a small, crucial something, evident in Ezio's unwavering attention and eager smile. He was something Ezio had been idly looking for, an idea he may have later given up on if events hadn't fallen exactly the way they did to ensure they met. Leonardo was what Ezio was looking for.

The first time Ezio kissed him, Leonardo couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything but cling and melt against him. It was hungry and insistent, like being devoured, like being claimed because Ezio never wanted to give him up. Every kiss from Ezio, every whisperingly gentle touch, every crushing embrace, is grounding, is a reminder of just where he is.

Leonardo has never felt as lost as he did before Ezio kissed him. In the time between falling in love with Ezio and finally being _his, _Leonardo clung to his art as a way to distinguish himself from others, something too small to save someone from drowning. He'd never felt so lost, felt aimless and felt like he was just _waiting, _waiting for something unknown and hoping he'd recognize it when it finally came. And now, now that Ezio is here with him, it's something entirely different. Leonardo will be able to create masterpieces forever, because for every piece of his soul that he gives up to a thing of beauty, Ezio recreates him, claiming and awed, so that Leonardo can give his creativity away forever.

"Amore mio," Ezio breathes one warm morning, "I'm so lucky."

"Truly?" Leonardo asks, as Ezio's embrace closes around him, and there's nowhere else he feels so safe, where he fits so exactly.

"I could tell that I couldn't let you go, that letting you go would be the worst mistake I could make, I could tell. Couldn't you?"

"Of course," Leonardo smiles. Without Ezio, he never would have felt so lost, but maybe he had to be, to understand. Being purely whole didn't feel anything like being recreated, pieced back together perfectly. "It felt like being found."

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Hope everyone liked that fluff!

Please review!

Love ya,

Sunshine


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